


All That's Dean, prequel

by srmrsj



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:19:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2388017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmrsj/pseuds/srmrsj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prequel to All that's Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That's Dean, prequel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [3White_Mage3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3White_Mage3/gifts).



> http://archiveofourown.org/works/2327579 All That's Dean

It feels odd having my brother at my apartment. Not because he's not welcome, but because he's never showed up here before.

We're watching a movie on DVD. 

I can feel his arm, the upper half, pressed against mine. We haven't sat like this for two years. He's been in all over-- hunting. 

He reaches over for some popcorn. I'm holding the bowl, though I haven't eaten any. This is an old habit, one of my ploys to get to touch him, to feel him. I no longer feel ashamed of myself. My feelings for Dean are so old that they've just worn away the shame, even though people would say my feelings for him are wrong. To me, they're just the feelings I have, and I've given up fighting them. 

When I'd met him at the door, he'd playfully asked, "Miss me?" and ruffled my hair. I had, of course, blushed and nodded, afraid to speak. Seeing him again, tan, with his beautiful eyes and soft hair, had flustered me. He'd pulled me into an embrace. "I missed you, too," he'd said, and for a moment I'd let myself pretend that he meant it more intimately than just brotherly affection. 

.

 

"You're my brother," he'd once told me when I'd tentatively brought up the subject of him dumping a best friend he'd had since kindergarten. "If Jack can't be nice to you, then he's not a good friend to me."

He was seventeen then. It had amazed me that he'd choose me over such a long-time friend. 

I don't know why he did such things. I never asked him to, and I didn't want him to. Not really. It made me feel uncomfortable. It made me feel like I was forcing him to choose, and I never wanted to do that. 

I was in love. 

I still am.

I glance at him now; he's laughing at something in the movie, his laughter ringing in my right ear. I have to resist a shiver of pleasure, because I feel embraced by his mirth. It's a comforting sound, and I remember the times I tried to make him laugh when he comforted me, so I could snuggle up against his shaking body. 

He feels me looking at him and turns to wink at me. I feel myself blush and look back at the TV. Dean nudges my arm and playfully taps his head against mine. He reaches for another handful of popcorn and I listen to him munch it. 

I want to kiss him. I want to taste the buttery popcorn flavour of his mouth. I lick my lips and stare at the TV.

"How come you don't have a someone yet, Sam?" he asks. 

I shrug. "Just don't," I say, blushing again. "After Jess and I broke up, I just didn't feel like getting another one."

I'm not unattractive. I’m not too shy to approach people I found attractive. I am in love with my brother.

That kind of put a damper on my desire to date.

"But only two weeks?" Dean asks.

I shrug. "We just weren't going anywhere," I explain. Jess had realized I wasn't really into her and had broken it off with me. I didn't blame her. "We're still friends, in a way," I add. I was still friends with all my old partners. That's just how things ended up. 

Dean embraces me with one arm, leaving buttery fingerprints on my left arm. "You still have me," he says.

I nod, glancing at him. "But you don't live here, you're a hunter." I point out. I know I sound sad, but I can't help it. 

He looks at me and tweaks my nose with his finger. "Well, I'm here now."

I nod. "Yeah," I say. 

"Sammy, why are you so down? I've never seen you like this."

I look at the TV. "I just miss you," I say. "It's hard."

"I'm sorry," he says, softly.

"That's okay. I get along fine. It's just that I know you're going to go in a few days, and, well . . ." I shrug. 

"Would you like it if I moved here?" he asks.

I hesitate. "Yeah, but I know you love hunting, and trust me there aren't a lot of hunts around here. I just want you to be happy."

"But-"

"You do still like you hunting, don't you?" I ask, looking at him intently.

He meets my gaze. "Yeah," he says.

"Then that's what you should do." I reach over and pat his hand, resisting the urge to grasp it, pull it to my lips, and kiss his fingers. I reweave my fingers together against the side of the bowl and sigh.

"Sam . . ."

"What?" I ask. I look at Dean again.

"You're sure?" he asks. 

I nod. "Yeah. Whatever makes you happy, Dean."

He opens his mouth, then closes it again. He reaches for more popcorn and smiles a little. "Okay," he says.

I nod. "Good."

He nudges me again, then tickles me. I giggle, wiggling. The bowl tips in my lap and popcorn spills out. Dean's craziness takes over, and he chases down the popcorn using his mouth. I put the bowl on the coffee table and scramble back so he won't discover my erection, which had risen when his lips had brushed my legs when he'd lipped the popcorn away. He chuckles and dives on me after eating up all the spilled popcorn and tickles me mercilessly.

"Stop!" I gasp, kicking my legs. "Oh, stop!"

Dean laughs and sits down in the middle of the sofa. "Got you to smile," he says.

I sober quickly. Had I really been that glum all the time? 

"Sorry," I mutter.

He gives me another one-armed embrace. "That's okay. I just wish I knew what was bothering you. Care to talk about it?"

I shake my head, forcing myself to keep it slow. "No. I'll work through it on my own."

He stretches. "Well, I'm going to bed. See you in the morning."

I watch him get up and leave. After the door to the bedroom where he is sleeping shuts, I take the popcorn and our empty glasses to the kitchen, then take myself to bed.

*

I'm awake, crying. I've been doing this every night since Dean arrived. I wake up, sometime around two, and weep into my pillow. I can almost feel his presence in the room at the end of the hall, on the other side of the wall from the living room. My double bed feels so empty, and I curl up as tiny as I can get. 

I don't hear the bedroom door open and shut. I do feel the covers tug and the bed sink as Dean Gets in. He pulls me into his embrace, and I can't resist. I roll over to press my face against his tee-shirted chest. I clutch at the shirt, just like when we were young.

"What's wrong, Sam?" he asks. 

I shake my head. I can't tell him. For the first time in years, I feel the shame. He'll hate me if I admit my feelings. I couldn't bear that. Never. 

"Come on, Sammy," he says, holding me tight. "You can tell me."

I shake my head again. 

"I want to help," he says, pushing me away a little. I find myself looking into his eyes. They're bright green, but I can't see the colour in the darkness, only the glint. He hasn't cut his hair in a while, and it sits across his forehead. 

I nod, sniffling. "I'm sorry, Dean," I say. "I'll try to be happier." 

"Tell me, Sam," he says. "I want to help you, but I can't if you don't tell me. Has someone hurt you?" His voice is hard on the question. 

I shake my head frantically. "It's just me," I say quickly. "My own fault."

"Okay, but tell me."

I shake my head. He half-rolls away and turns on the lamp on his side of the bed. When he looks at me again, I can see the colour of his eyes now. His expression is a mixture of concern and worry. He grips my shoulders.

"Tell me, Sammy," he says.

I shake my head, looking away. I can see the hollow of his throat. He wears tee shirts too big for him to sleep in, and the collar underlines the hollow. I lick my lips, thinking about kissing that hollow. 

Dean's hands grip my shoulders tighter.

"Sam," he says.

I look at him. I can feel my expression, but I couldn't describe it. I don't know what he sees in it, but his eyes widen as his gaze slides over my face. He inhales sharply and wiggles out of the bed. 

I've betrayed myself. 

I roll over and curl up again, feeling too much despair to cry. I cover my face with my pillow and sigh into it. I hear the light click off, and listen, straining my ears so that I can hear the door latch shut. 

I know I've ruined everything. He's going to leave early, I just know it. He thinks I'm perverted. Now the tears come, and I sob into the pillow, not bothering to try and keep myself quiet. It doesn't matter now. I've lost my brother. 

*

He's not in the apartment when I get up in the morning. I don't bother to look in the guest room, where he's been sleeping. The door's shut, but then he's always closed doors after himself. I don't look because I can't bear to see his duffel gone. I'll go in and change the sheets and make the bed later. 

I lock the front door's bolt and go to the kitchen. I stand there for several minutes, just blank. Nothing comes to mind, and I feel hollow, empty. I hug myself and cry, grab a paper towel to catch my tears. That movement frees me up for more.

I open the freezer and look at the container of chocolate ice cream I got for Dean. He's hardly touched it, and, even though it's not my favourite, it's the one I choose, though I've got a container and a half of strawberry for myself. I stand in the kitchen and eat the ice cream, crying. 

I can't stop crying. 

I rinse the bowl and put it in the dishwasher with the rest of the dirty dishes. I don't feel like scrounging around after the soap, but I do anyway, and fill the receptacle and lock it shut. Maybe I'll put the dishes away later. Maybe I won't. I shut the dishwasher and start it, then wander out to the living room. 

Everything feels grey. I plod to my bedroom and crawl back into bed to bury my face in my pillow. 

Pounding wakes me sometime later, and I sit up, disoriented. I stumble free of bed and go to the front door and open it without looking through the peephole, too depressed to wonder whose knocking.

"Dean?" I say, surprised. 

He grins at me. "Aren't you going to let me in, Sammy?" he asks. 

I back up, opening the door wider. He steps in and I shut the door behind him and lock it up.

"Why are you still here?" I ask, looking down at my hand on the doorknob. It's a safe place to look. 

I see and feel Dean's hand grip my shoulder. He turns me and grasps my other shoulder. 

"Sam, look at me."

I shake my head, fresh tears sliding down my face. I bunch my hands together before my stomach and sniffle. Dean’s right hand leaves my shoulder and he raises my head with a crooked finger under my chin. I keep my gaze lowered. 

Both his hands move to cup my face and I feel his thumbs rubbing the tears away. 

"Look at me, Sammy," he says.

I sniffle and force myself to look. I can't read his expression. Too many emotions crowd his face. He leans forward and kisses me. 

I moan but return the kiss. I've wanted this too long to resist. When his tongue licks my lips, I open them to let it in, and our kiss deepens. I can feel my body shaking, and I grab the front of his shirt. He nibbles my lower lip as the kiss ends, and I open my eyes, afraid of what I'll see, but desperate to know how he feels. 

His eyes have darkened. I know mine are, too. I sigh, closing my eyes again. I never thought I'd see Dean look at me with lust, and it makes me shake again. 

He pulls me into a tight embrace and I bury my face against his shoulder, shuddering. I can feel his erection, pressing against my lower abdomen, right above my pubic area. I can't stop myself, and rub myself against him.

He shudders and mimics my motion. 

"I want you to be happy, too, Sam," he says. 

"Please, Dean," I say against his shoulder. 

He pushes me back and raises my head again. He kisses me once more. This time, I deepen it, shuddering as I do so. I feel his hands slide around and down my chest and inhale a deep breath through my nose. It shudders into and out of me. I feel him tug my shirt up, and his hands brush the skin he's bared. 

I whimper, reaching for my brother. I push his shirt up and rub my hands on his body. It feels better than I ever imagined it would. Dean breaks the kiss, and I gasp, then whimper, but he pulls my shirt up over my head, then does the same with his own, tossing them into the middle of the living room. 

"Dean," I say, and reach for him. 

He grabs my hands and pulls me into the hall, glancing over his shoulder to see where he's going. I move closer and kiss a trail along his collarbone and suck at the hollow of his throat. He stops walking and shudders. I nibble his neck and raise my head to look at him. His eyes are closed, and his teeth are clenched. 

"Finished?" he asks, opening his eyes to look at me.

I feel myself blush. "Not yet," I say.

We kiss again. He entwines our hands, holding them out to our sides, bending our elbows. His grip is tight, his chest warm against mine. He pulls away, leaving me gasping after the kiss.

"Come on, Sammy," he says. 

I follow, all too willing. He leads me around to my side of the bed and pushes the covers down. I caress his chest with my now free hand, daring to twist his nipple. Dean groans, back arching. I take the other nipple into my mouth, pluck at it with my teeth while I keep twisting the other. I feel my brother tremble, hear him hiss, moan and groan beneath my ministrations. He puts a hand in my hair, holding my head where it is, and I moan with his nipple between my teeth. Dean shudders again. 

"Sam," he says. 

I trail kisses up his chest to his neck, around to his earlobe, and tug on it, sucking.

"Oh, God, baby boy," he says. 

"Yes, my brother?" I murmur, and lick around the outside of his ear. 

He softly groans. "You-" he breaks off as I nip the spot behind his earlobe, and shudders. I lick the spot.

"Yes?" I say. 

"I never-" 

I kiss along his jaw and claim his lips, interrupting him. He returns the kiss, pressing his lips hard against mine, and I sink my tongue into his mouth. He groans, his hand sliding from my head to cup my face, his other hand releasing my hand so he can smooth his hand up my arm, down my chest, to my nipple. I gasp and whimper when his thumb brushes over it.

I step closer to him, lowering my hands. I tickle his skin along the edge of the waistband of his shorts, dipping fingertips into his belly button. His abdominal muscles jump beneath my fingers, and I can feel his breaths coming in short bursts through his nose. 

He twists my nipple and I jump, moaning as the feeling shoots down to my erection. I rub against him and he rubs against me. I unbutton his shorts.

He trails kisses across my cheek and licks the outer edge of my ear. 

"I had to think," he says, his voice raspy. 

I open my eyes to look up at him. He holds my head in both his hands. I brush my fingernails in the space I've opened at his waist, where the button is now undone. 

"I want you to be happy," he says. 

"I don't want you to do this just because I want it," I reply. 

"You never ask for anything, Sammy," he says. 

"I'm not going to ask for this, either," I say, and remove my hands from his body and step back. It takes all my willpower to do it, and I pull his hands from my face. 

Dean grabs my upper arms and pulls me against him. "I want it, too," he says. 

I resist the urge to touch him. "Really?" I ask, looking at him. 

He nods, a little frantically. 

"Why?" I ask. I want to be sure. I need to be sure. I know that if this goes further, it'll last for only a few days, then he'll return to his life. I expect that. I know that if this goes further, that these few days will be a special gift, something I'll never be able to expect again. 

And maybe I'll be able to move on with my life. 

"I want it because . . ." He pulls me toward him and kisses me. I can't help but respond. When we part, we're gasping. "Because I love you. I could never refuse you anything, not even this. And I want it. I really, really want it, Sam. More than I thought I would." He kisses my cheek, sucking a little. "I couldn't sleep after I saw the hunger in your face, the lust in your eyes. It surprised me, but it didn't frighten or turn me off. It did the opposite, and I got up early this morning because I needed to think about it."

"Why?" I ask, and I lean in to nibble his neck. He sucks in a breath and pushes my head away. 

"Because the idea felt too right to me. The more I thought, the more right it felt. Sam, I want to make love with you. Let me, please," he says, his last words drawn out with pleading. 

I'm surprised, but I kiss him, and he returns it. We embrace, hands rubbing each other’s backs. 

"Yes, Dean," I say, and lick his ear. 

We step back and I reach for his shorts, lowering the zipper. I do it slowly, watching Dean. His hands clench my shoulders; his eyes are shut, and he's breathing in gasps. 

I lower his jeans and boxers and push him against the bed. His erection sways in my face. I toss his bottom garments away and take his boots off his feet and toss them aside as well. I do the same with my bottom garments and shoes, then I grab Dean's hips, push them down to the bed, and spread his legs, kneeling between them. 

I suck the head of his penis into my mouth and he shoves up, moaning. I hum a little, fondling his balls as I take all of him into my mouth. His hand settles onto my head, gripping my hair. 

"Sammy," my brother sighs. 

I reach up with one hand and pull on his left nipple as I suck back. I move slowly, and Dean groans. He tries to shove into my mouth, and I pull away, even though I'd just been sucking him in. 

"Sam!" he protests.

I hum, and he shivers. I push his legs wider with my left hand and move off of him to reach into my nightstand for my lube. 

"Sam . . ."

"Hush. Give me a moment," I say.

Dean whimpers. I suck his erection into my mouth again and warm up lube on my fingers. I don't know if my brother's ever bottomed, so I slide in one finger carefully. He gasps and raises his hips. I raise my head a little off his penis so he doesn't choke me, then hum as I suck him in again. I find his prostate and he gives a loud moan. I hum again, pleased. 

"Oh, God, Sam," Dean moans. "Don't stop."

I pull off his penis and give nibbling kisses down the underside to his pubes, then suck one of his nuts into my mouth. I rub his prostate again. 

"Oooohhhhhh!" Dean writhes. 

I move to the other nut and do the same thing, adding a little pressure, and suck as I pull off of it. I hear my brother groan and smile before lowering my head over his penis gain. I suck him in, humming, and rub his prostate. 

"Oh, my God, oh, my God!" He clutches at my hair with both hands. "This-oh, my God, Sam!" 

I remove my finger, and he whimpers. I add more lube, then slide two fingers into his anus. My brother's hips rise again, and he groans. 

"Oh, yes. More. Give me more, Sam," he pleads.

I pull out my fingers, add more lube, and shove in three fingers. I'm beginning to believe he has bottomed before, he's being so eager. He groans as my fingers slide in, and I brush his prostate again. 

I play with him for a while, keeping my actions slow and tortuous. My brother writhes, begs, and pleads, moans, groans, gasps. His hands scrabble in my hair, gripping, loosening, doing everything but trying to control my movements, which tells me he's enjoying what I'm doing to him. 

"More, more, more," he starts chanting. 

I pull off his penis, licking my lips. I've been tasting his precum for a while, and its tang clings to my tongue.

"What more?" I ask, stroking his prostate. 

"In me, in me," my brother gasps. "Please, Sammy. Please."

I reach for my nightstand again, pulling my fingers out of him. Dean groans, chasing my fingers with his ass. I pinch one of his ass cheeks and he jumps.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and I glance to see him looking up. His eyes are dark, and his expression is a little wild, hazed over with lust. 

"I'm getting a condom," I say, shuffling my hand around in the drawer. I edge over to look into it.

"No, Sam."

I look at Dean. "What?"

"I don't want you to use a condom. I'm your own brother. And I know I'm clean. Don't you trust me?" He pushes himself up and flops a hand onto my shoulder. He pulls me to him for a kiss, and I fall into it. 

"I trust you," I say when the kiss is over. 

He scoots back onto the bed. "Then no condom."

I nod, hypnotized by his face. The haze of lust hasn't left it; neither has the wildness. He flops back.

"Oh, Sammy. Come to me. Come in me." He makes beckoning motions with his hands.

I rise and kneel on the bed between his legs. I'm still holding the lube and I push his legs up. He spreads them wide, digging his heels into the bed so his hips rise a bit. 

"Please, Sam. Now." 

I nod, suck on his penis a little, and spread more lube between his cheeks and into his hole. Dean whimpers. When I remove my fingers to lube myself up, he cries out.

"Please!"

I use my lubed hand to raise his hips up more and close and drop the lube to stuff a pillow under Dean's hips. I add the other pillow. There. I line myself up and press into him. There is resistance.

"Bear down on me, Dean," I say. 

I feel him press back, and the head of my penis pops in. My brother hisses, and I kiss his neck and chest, pinching his nipples. I feel his erection against my stomach; it doesn't wilt at all. I wait. 

"More, Sammy," Dean says. "Please."

I ease in, taking my time. His hips rise to meet mine, and I hear him moan. 

"Oh, there," he cries, gripping my shoulders. 

I sigh, closing my eyes. He feels so tight around me, so warm. I nibble his neck some more and shift, adjusting my weight, and grab one of his hands to put it on his penis; he seems to have forgotten what to do and just holds himself until I start moving his hand.

Dean's hips rise, and I slide all the way in. My brother moans. When I move back, pulling out, his hips rise again, and he moans again. I adjust my position again and push back in. I feel Dean shake beneath me, and his hand stutters on his penis. 

"Oh, God, Sam," he groans. 

I start moving steadily. My brother moves beneath me, the movement of his hips and my angle brushing my penis against his prostate continuously. I feel him begin to quake, and the bed shudders with it. I close my eyes, feeling my orgasm rise. Dean's starts and I feel him clench around my penis and I whimper. My whimper crawls up into a low scream as my orgasm sizzles through me. I feel myself shudder, and when the sensation leaves, I collapse onto my brother.

He slides his hand off his penis and I can feel it sliding through the come on his chest and stomach. I rise up a little and lick it off of him, sucking on his finger. He whimpers softly. When he's clean, I remove myself from his ass and tug the pillows free and put the cleaner one at the head of the bed. I toss the more soiled one to the floor and wrangle our bodies so that I'm curled up behind my brother, both our heads on the one pillow. 

He shudders, pulling my right hand further over his stomach so he can insert his fingers between mine and curl them around to my palm. I doze.

I wake to the motion of my brother's body beneath my arm. Thinking he's trying to get away, I pull him closer. He chuckles. 

"Loosen up, Sammy," he says. "I want to face you."

I obey, and he flips around to face me. Our faces are very close, and he wraps his left arm around me. I rest my hand on his upper arm, rubbing a little.

"Do you regret it?" I ask, not looking at his eyes. 

"Of course not," he says, and I look at him. His eyes are back to their bright green, and they're sparkling. I wonder what it means, but don't ask, because I've only ever seen his eyes sparkle when he's really into someone. He kisses me. "I could never regret anything I ever do for or with you. Don't you know that?"

I nod, looking away again, but kiss him. When the kiss is over, he pulls me closer. I caress the left cheek of his ass with my fingertips, and he wiggles. 

"Give me time, Sam," he says. "I hurt more than I thought I would." 

I gasp and look into his face, startled. "I thought you'd bottomed before," I said. "You-"

Dean cuts me off with a kiss. "Hush. I wanted it, and I'm glad my first time was with you."

I blush because I can hear the truth in his words. 

"I'm sorry," I say. "If I'd known . . ."

"Be quiet," he says again. 

I nod. I lower my gaze and watch his face through my eyelashes. "I want you in me next," I say, feeling myself blush more.

His arms come around me and he pulls me close. I snuggle against my brother and sigh, kissing the hollow of his throat. I nibble his collarbone. 

"Happy?" he asks.

I nod. "Yes. Are you?"

He sighs, and I realize it's a sigh of contentment when he responds, "Yes." 

Half an hour later Dean had perked up and was ready for round two, this time I bottomed. Dean was a fast learner. It was just all him.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated <3


End file.
